


Mirrors Collide

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, I am rubbish at tags..., M/M, Teenagers, Teenlock, Trans Character, Trans John Watson, Trans Male Character, Unilock, University Student John Watson, University Student Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-21 19:06:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20698385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: John Watson was not born with that name... Had you never thought why he wears the thick and baggy jumpers? It may be to hide something. John Watson's transitional journey from just beginning T as he starts uni all through to his final year, where he graduates as a doctor. We see John's fight against the university system as he fights for his right to be named as he wish, fights for the right to being a man, fights for his right to be a doctor!Is on a extended hiatus, until further notice





	1. Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> TW: This story will discuss heavy feelings of dysphoria. It will discuss anxiety, depression and many other mental health issues. It will touch on self harm and how to access help for that. It will discuss gay men, also trans men. There is not any mention of trans women in this story, just the account of one trans man.
> 
> Authors Note: Please do not take this story as gospel. It is based off of a UK university that will remain nameless. John's trans experience is based off a real trans man's experience, he shall remain nameless. The experiences are not a blanket definition or explination for all trans men. Please be respectful of other people's journeys.
> 
> Finally, if you are struggling with any of the mental health illnesses or any gender identity issues please seek help with your country's helpline. Alternatively, feel free to email me directly at: deerstalker221shjw@gmail.com and I will answer any question - if I can - and try and direct you to resources that can help you.
> 
> Thank you for clicking on my story. Enjoy!

John perched on the edge of his bed and stared at his feet. The mattress was bare and the walls echoed the lack of personality. Muffled feminine voices emanated from beyond John's door, young banshees draining on his psyche. He glared at the door, his eyes silently attempting to burn a hole through the wood, when the voices seemed to have dissipated, he crept up to the door as if it were a frightened animal. He peered out of his room and immediately locked eyes with a young, blonde girl. Her eyes were smoky, lips cherry red and pursed in an expression of muted surprise. Almost instantly, he slammed the door shut and leaned against it. "Oh, Joanna! It's beautiful, isn't it?" His mother's voice echoed in his head. "You'll make loads of friends." She grinned. "Shall we meet some of the other girls in your dorm?" His matron-like mother had asked. She had been a chief nurse for as long as he could remember. Her maternal and caring nature had always overflown for him and his sister. However, no matter how much motherly charm and love she showered him in, he couldn't bring himself to tell her that he was in fact a 'he' rather than the 'her' she always thought of him as. 

His mother's face still shimmering in his mind, John glanced to the closed door on the other side of the room. It felt like days since she had walked out and left him in the strange place, when in actuality, he had been alone for one minuscule hour. He rose from his seat on the bed and padded quietly to the door and opened it to be greeted with blank darkness. He flicked the switch on the outer wall and almost had to shield his eyes from the bright florescent white light. It bathed the room in brightness. The walls were white-washed, the floor was cream and dimpled with gripping patterns and a shower hung ominously over the toilet, seemingly to threaten any occupier of the toilet with a quick and cold shower, or at the very least dripping. All the dorm rooms were equip with a wet room rather than a shower cubicle or separate shower and toilet rooms, to accommodate for all mobility issues he thought. John flicked the light off and pulled the door closed before pulling a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. He scoured it with his eyes and read the name of his first lecture and the room number beside it. It was in ten minutes. He tried to think of the campus map that he'd memorised on the journey to university, when his eyes settled to the top of the page. Two words were printed there. A name. Tightness gripped at John's chest and he gave a gasp of shock as he dropped the paper to clasp at his chest. His mind pounded with panic and aching pain. His skin felt too tight. His chest felt too large. His genitals burned. He fell back on the bed and whimpered in mental agony. "I am John!" He gasped out to the room. "I'm a man!" He muttered after. He repeated the two declarations over and over, whimpering to nobody, a mantra that seemed to only be true in his own head. He wiped at his prickling eyes before pushing himself to his feet and swiping the timetable from the floor and bolted towards the door, slamming it behind him as he stormed away from the bare room.

Earbuds plugged into his ears, music resonating around his skull, John fixed his eyes to the ground as he marched towards his first lecture. He stopped at a tall building and flicked his eyes across the block capitals fixed to the front of it, 'The Scientia Building', it read on the sign above the large entry way. He stepped into the building, scanning the other signs that were fixed to the front of doors. The distant smell of cooking food, rumbling students and academics bustling from one side of the university building and to the other as they pushed their way through the Scientia Building. Finally his eyes locked on the sign, 'SB0012' he bee-lined towards it. 

John slipped through the door and scurried into the lecture hall, the ceiling was large and cavernous, the seats seemed similar to those at a football stadium, except they were lined with a soft fabric, a desperate and failing attempt to seem comfortable. He found a seat and perched on the edge of it, watching as others filtered into the hall and found their seats. As the lecturers entered the room, they passed out the paper register. As each person took their seat the register began to finally make its way across the lecture hall until it landed in front of John. He scowled at the name on the register. The unassuming and innocent letters that had been printed seemed to exist for nothing but to mock him. He took out his biro and scribbled the name out, pleasure flooded his veins as he watched the name disappear from his view and wrote: 'John Watson.' When he had written it, he smiled in contentment at the register and passed it onto the next person, head held high with his self-bolstered confidence. 

As the lecture droned on, academics began assigning people into groups and ushering them, like sheep, into their private little corner of the lecture hall. He and a small number of other students were gathered together and labelled Group Umarmung, or 'Group U' for short. One academic, a man with a warm smile, told the group that he was the Group U tutor and began introducing some ice-breaker exercises. John sighed and reluctantly took part, his eyes flicked from one blank and frightened face to another as each person said their name and something interesting about themselves. He felt his chest tighten as he desperately thought for what to say for himself. "I'm John, my mum's a chief nurse at St Barts." The group nodded respectfully and followed the line until it fell on a young and stocky man wearing wire glasses. "I'm Mike and I play rugby." After the last person had introduced themselves the tutor stood and introduced himself. "Hello, I'm Professor Sholto." The man introduced himself, he had a scar that covered a part of his face and piercing eyes. "I'd like it if you could pair up with one another and find out something interesting about one another, or just have a conversation." He told the group and gestured with his hands for them to pair up. John's eyes scoured the group before he locked eyes with the boy who'd introduced himself as 'Mike'. 

"Shall we partner up?" John asked. 

"Sure." Mike muttered with a nod. John smiled and took a seat beside him. The two were silent for a moment before John gestured to the lecture hall with a twitch of his head. "It's daunting, isn't it? All this, I mean." He clarified.

Mike chuckled and nodded, he pushed his glasses up with his index finger. "Yeah, I said bye to my parents this morning and straight away I had lectures." Mike muttered, a darker tone of annoyance accompanying his voice. John nodded and agreed. "So, have you joined any of the extra curriculars?" Mike asked. John frowned and shook his head. 

Mike took a moment to look John up and down before grinning.

John's stomach dropped and he glanced to his bound chest and then to the rest of his body, had something given him away? Had Mike figured out that he was trans? 

"You should join the rugby team!" Mike informed him with a chuckle. John breathed out a sigh of relief and nodded. 

"I like rugby." He told him, "Sometimes struggle to understand the rules, but I like sports."

"You can tell." Mike told him before nodding to the other students, who were standing and preparing to leave, "I should probably head off. Meet me at practice tonight, at seven?" Mike asked. John nodded and watched him as he left the building. John rose from his seat and turned to see his tutor stood at the bottom of the lecture hall. He slung his bag over his shoulder and descended the stairs to speak with him. "Excuse me." He muttered. He turned to him and nodded.

"Yeah?" He asked. John sighed and smiled, trying to bolster up his confidence. He tried to ensure his voice didn't crack as he forced it to a lower octave, his vocal chords aching in protest, desperate to be read as the correct gender.

"I... I need to talk to you about my name." He muttered. "I'm transgender and I haven't been in a position to be able to legally change my name and so I've had to sign all the forms in my birth name. Is there anything the university can do to make sure everyone addresses me by my chosen name?" He asked him, eyes directed to the ground. The tutor smiled, his cheeks were dimpled and his balding head reflected the lights from above like a skin-covered disco ball.

"Well, I don't know where to start or who to contact, but give me a few days and I can try to get in contact with one of my colleagues?" He offered. 

"Yeah, that could be helpful. Thank you." He smiled slightly.

"Oh..." The tutor glanced to the register and read his scribbled name. "John, what dorm are you staying in?" he asked him. John's cheeks heated and he cast his eyes down to the floor. 

"Dorm Doe." He muttered, his cheeks a brilliant shade of cerise. He felt a warm hand on his shoulder and he glanced up to Professor Sholto with a raised eyebrow. He smiled in support.

"I'll try and get you transferred to either the Buck Dorm or Dorm Tom." She told him. "The Buck dorm will have more rooms free, but that is only because, in that dorm, the boys share. Similar to the Queen Dorm. Would you mind sharing a room?" She asked. 

John shrugged. "I'd prefer not to, but I don't really mind, so long as I don't have to be in the girls' dorm." He muttered.

The tutor smiled and took his writing pad from his bag and slid it across the desk to him. "Why don't you write your mobile number here and I'll have the accommodations office call you when they've transferred you. Would you like any help moving your things?" He asked. 

"Yeah please." John accepted as he wrote his mobile on the paper. "Thank you for your help."

John spent the rest of the day hiding in his room, listening to the giggling girls only a meter from his dorm door. Normally, he wouldn't mind the sounds of women, he was quite fond of them in every sense of the word. But when people misgendered him so atrociously as to lump him into the same categories as women, that was what he hated about the sounds of females outside the door. It wasn't the girls themselves, it was that someone else had assumed that he was one of them. He scowled at his toes as he hung his head. John's ringtone sliced through the silence and startled him slightly, his hand swiped the device off the desk as he answered it. "Hello?" He muttered into the speaker. A woman's voice came on the line. 

"Hello? Is this John?" 

"Yes. Speaking?"

"I'm Jodie from the accommodations office. I have come to ask you about a transfer. I can transfer you into 221 Buck Dorm on the Baker accommodations campus, would you like to take this transfer or wait for another room to become available?" She asked. 

John shook his head to no one before remembering that he had to vocalise his thoughts to her. "No. I'd like to take the transfer. Thank you." He told her. 

"Okay then, John. I can send a couple of the orderlies down with a trolley to take you and your belongings to your new room. Please leave your current room exactly as you found it so it can be easily prepared for the next occupier. Thank you, have a nice day."

"Umm. Yeah, you too." He muttered and hung up the phone. 


	2. Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has been moved to the boy's dormitory, he's made a friend and now has a room mate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This story will discuss heavy feelings of dysphoria. It will discuss anxiety, depression and many other mental health issues. It will touch on self harm and how to access help for that. It will discuss gay men, also trans men. There is not any mention of trans women in this story, just the account of one trans man.
> 
> Authors Note: Please do not take this story as gospel. It is based off of a UK university that will remain nameless. John's trans experience is based off a real trans man's experience, he shall remain nameless. The experiences are not a blanket definition or explanation for all trans men. Please be respectful of other people's journeys.
> 
> Finally, if you are struggling with any of the mental health illnesses or any gender identity issues please seek help with your country's helpline. Alternatively, feel free to email me directly at: deerstalker221shjw@gmail.com and I will answer any question - if I can - and try and direct you to resources that can help you.
> 
> Thank you for clicking on my story. Enjoy!

The rapping of knuckles against the door spurred John from his seat, atop the mattress. He all but teleported to the door before he flung it open to see two burly men, one with mousy brown hair and the other with slightly graying, salt and peppered hair. Their large bodies covered in slacks and a polo shirt, with a print of the university crest on the breast. One of the men, the older one, looked John up and down before peering at his colleague. He then glanced to the number on the door and nodded, as if confirming information in his head. "You John Watson?" He asked skeptically. John frowned at the strange tone in the man's voice, he couldn't infer what the man was insinuating, however, he knew that it made him extremely uncomfortable. John wrapped his arms around himself. 

"Uh, yeah." He muttered, very grateful for the thick jumper he was wearing. He had always loved his thicker jumpers; with a binder on and a jumper no one could see his large chest or the strange roundness it gave him when he wore his binder. The orderlies exchanged a look before nodding to John. "Okay then, John, we can take some of your belongings to your new room." The younger orderly told him.

Just as John stepped aside, the older man stepped forward and pushed his colleague back and away from the door. "Why are you going to the boy's dorm?" The older man asked. John's eyes widened and his brows rose slightly, he hadn't been expecting such confrontation. 

"Well... Because, I..." 

"Because he's a boy, idiot." A deep rumbling baritone cut through the exchange. The older man's eyes widened at the sound and he glanced back to where the voice had come from. John leaned around the two men to see who had spoken. His eyes fell on a tall student, a skinny boy with raven curls that created a delicate mop atop his head. His face was angular and smooth, his eyes piercing and blue. "Oh don't be so stupid." The strange boy scoffed. "Do you honestly think a girl, who had been assigned a female dormitory would ask, make a fuss about it and then request to be transferred to the male dormitory?" He asked. When he received silence, the boy scoffed and shrugged. "Exactly. So John is a boy." John glanced from this stranger and to the orderlies before nodding to them, he dare not speak, in case he outed himself and thus caused the orderlies to misgender him again. 

The orderlies frowned at John before both them and John turned back to where the boy had been standing, only to find the space vacated. The two men shrugged, John moved aside and allowed them to enter his room to remove his belongings. They then silently escorted John across from the Belgravia Campus and towards the Baker Campus. They pressed their access cards against the scanner and waited patiently for the door to swing open, before ushering John inside and towards the second door. 'Buck Dorm' was printed on the door, they scanned the fob again. The two men marched John down to a third door that had a brass '221' plate fixed onto it, they scanned their card once more and the scanner on the door flashed green, allowing the men inside, they deposited John's belongings on the free bed and then turned towards the door. John followed them and held the door opened for them. "There we are John. Any issues please contact site admin." The younger one muttered, the older man continued to watch John suspiciously. John remained stiff as a board in the doorway until he saw the two orderlies leave.

He let the door swing shut and gave a deep sigh of relief. His chest finally had a chance to unravel after that tormentingly silent and accusatory ten minute journey between the two dorms. He scrubbed his hand over his face and forced his mind to be rid of the horrid experience, before he opened his eyes and surveyed the room. There were chemistry books, forensic journals, random letters and stray pieces of paper were strewn across the room. The bed to the left had bedclothes on it, to say that it was made would have been completely incorrect, however, it was obvious that it was used at some point or another as the quilt was a knotted mess and the pillows were flat and uneven. The walls were covered with posters of skulls and pictures of... "Christ, is that a corpse?!" John yelped to the room as his eyes fixated on one image in particular. He grimaced and tore his eyes away and back to his side of the room.

Articles of clothing and stray books sat across the unmade and unclothed bed. John frowned and gently removed the books and clothes from the mattress and deposited them onto the other side of the room. He then proceeded to make his bed. Just as he placed the last pair of socks in the set of draws on his side of the room, the door was pushed open. John whipped his head around to see who the intruder was. It was the same boy from before. His eyes narrowed on the lanky boy. "What are you doing here?" John asked.

"Hello to you too, John." The boy replied with a merry, deep voice.

"I just saw you in the corridor." He muttered. 

"Astute observational skills, Watson, I commend you." The boy replied with sarcasm. John's brow furrowed in bewilderment and irritation. 

"Well, why are you in my dorm room then? Why were you in in the corridor of the old dorm? Who are you?" John huffed. The boy chuckled and threw himself down on his bed, he pressed his hands together as if he were praying and closed his eyes. 

"Question one, correction, not your dorm room, our dorm room. I think that correction answers your question, but if you're still trailing behind me, and I wouldn't put it past you. This was my dorm room, I had it to myself when they called in asking if there was a spare bed in any of the dorm rooms, mine was the only room with a free bed. Ergo, they assigned you to this room when you was transferred. Question two, I heard that I was getting a room mate, so I decided to follow the orderlies to your room, so I could get a scope as to whom they were throwing into this room, with me. I wasn't disappointed. Question three, I am Sherlock Holmes, I'd say lovely to make your acquaintance, but I'm rather bored now. You do need to catch up, John." Sherlock sighed and peered at the blond with one eye.

John watched the boy, Sherlock. He frowned once again, "Okay, fair enough, but how the hell do you know my name?" He asked. 

"I deduced it." Sherlock replied simply.

"You deduced...? How?"

"By observing and drawing conclusions."

John's face made a spectacular collage of expressions before settling on frustration. "I know what deducing means..." He couldn't finish his sentence before Sherlock had spoken once again.

"I can deduce your name just as I can deduce that your family is from a military background, your father to be exact, he abuses you and your brother and your mother is a doctor-no-nurse. Your brother is also an alcoholic, just like your father." He told John.

John watched the man incredulously. "You looked me up." He accused. Sherlock's eyes widened, his brows high on his head as he watched the smaller man with offence.

"I've done no such thing. I merely observed. I didn't know you before today, John." He defended himself.

"Okay, so how the hell did you know any of that?" John asked. 

Sherlock sighed in irritation and rolled his eyes. "Deduction." He snapped. "I heard the orderlies questioning you and using your name, therefore I deduced that that was your name and not some invisible man in the same room, who was also called John Watson. I know that your family is from a military background by the state of your bed. It's neat, too neat. Someone would have had to be brought up with two or more influential people in their life to religiously and without question make their bed as you have. Therefore your father is military. I can also see a letter in your suitcase that is from your father, its got the return address for a military camp in Germany, where we happen to have substantial military personal deployed there currently. You carefully opened the letter and then screwed it up. No one would open a letter with care if they didn't care about it. For a man, who has a father in the military, to receive a letter from said father would not screw the letter up unless there was emotional driving factors. What leads to negative emotions between military fathers and their children? The distance and or abuse. If it were the distance, you would have savored and cared for the letter, but you haven't, you've screwed it up, so it must be abuse. I deduced that your mother was a nurse, due to the fact that you must have two influencing factors to have such a meticulous habit of bed-making style. So, your father is military, it would be highly improbable if your mother was military also, so what profession has a strict method of bed making? Nurses. Also you have several bandages, gauze and plasters. No eighteen year old would have that quality of medical stock unless a parent of family member was a member of the NHS. Therefore, your mother must be a nurse. Finally your brother is an alcoholic, shot in the dark but a good one. You have a pornographic magazine in your bag with a post it note placed on it, the handwriting is horrendous, possibly just bad handwriting? I beg to differ. It's not just bad handwriting but it's bad spelling. The level of that writing is that of a child or a drunkard. No child would have written that note - it's stuck on a pornographic magazine, for god's sake! So it must be a close, older relative, someone who isn't a parent. So, a sibling. The name at the end of the note is 'Harry'. Therefore, brother. Alcoholism runs in the family. It's not just a thing that people develop, they've seen it, been exposed to it. You're not just an alcoholic, the behavior is learned. Your mother has to follow the NMC Code, she's bound to it, to be exact. So she isn't the alcoholic. So your father must be. There. See. Deduction." Sherlock huffed and returned to having his eyes closed. 

"That's..." Sherlock flinched at John's word. "Amazing." John gasped in shock and shook his head with a chuckle. "That was truly and utterly amazing." Sherlock's eyes flicked open and he narrowed a scrutinizing gaze at John. 

"Amazing?" He asked incredulously. "You think so?"

"Definitely. That was fantastic." John grinned. Sherlock's face relaxed slightly in a strange expression of confused bliss. "Except Harry is my sister."

"What?" Sherlock asked, his brows drawn together once again.

"You said Harry was my brother, no, she's my sister. Born Harriet, but goes by Harry." John explained.

Sherlock's eyes widened, "Sister! Of course! There's always something." Just as Sherlock had finished speaking, there was a knock at the door. 

"John?" A soft voice filtered through the door. John recognized the voice but couldn't place it. He held his hand up to Sherlock, "Hold on a moment." He told Sherlock and stepped across the room to unlock the door. He peered through the gap and saw Mike's beaming smile. The man waved slightly and peered behind him and to Sherlock. "Hi Sherlock." He muttered. Sherlock sneered and curled away, facing the wall. John frowned at the raven-haired boy but shook his head before turning his gaze back to Mike. 

"It's rugby now, I didn't see you at practice, so I thought I'd run up to get you." He told him.

"How did you know where I was?" John asked.

"I saw some of the orderlies and asked them if they knew, they said they'd just moved you in at Buck Dorm, so I thought I'd come by, also I knew Sherlock had a free bed, the only free bed from the boys side of the campus, anyway." He told him. 

John chuckled and nodded. "Fair enough. Do I need to bring anything?" He asked. 

"Just your sports uniform." Mike told him. John nodded and grabbed his sports bag, that he'd prepared for rugby earlier. "Sure, lets go." He told Mike. "See you in a bit, Sherlock." He called back and let the door close behind him with a click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This story will discuss heavy feelings of dysphoria. It will discuss anxiety, depression and many other mental health issues. It will touch on self harm and how to access help for that. It will discuss gay men, also trans men. There is not any mention of trans women in this story, just the account of one trans man.
> 
> Authors Note: Please do not take this story as gospel. It is based off of a UK university that will remain nameless. John's trans experience is based off a real trans man's experience, he shall remain nameless. The experiences are not a blanket definition or explanation for all trans men. Please be respectful of other people's journeys.
> 
> Finally, if you are struggling with any of the mental health illnesses or any gender identity issues please seek help with your country's helpline. Alternatively, feel free to email me directly at: deerstalker221shjw@gmail.com and I will answer any question - if I can - and try and direct you to resources that can help you.
> 
> Thank you for clicking on my story. Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> TW: This story will discuss heavy feelings of dysphoria. It will discuss anxiety, depression and many other mental health issues. It will touch on self harm and how to access help for that. It will discuss gay men, also trans men. There is not any mention of trans women in this story, just the account of one trans man.
> 
> Authors Note: Please do not take this story as gospel. It is based off of a UK university that will remain nameless. John's trans experience is based off a real trans man's experience, he shall remain nameless. The experiences are not a blanket definition or explination for all trans men. Please be respectful of other people's journeys.
> 
> Finally, if you are struggling with any of the mental health illnesses or any gender identity issues please seek help with your country's helpline. Alternatively, feel free to email me directly at: deerstalker221shjw@gmail.com and I will answer any question - if I can - and try and direct you to resources that can help you.
> 
> Thank you for clicking on my story. Enjoy!


End file.
